


Only Skin

by serranodebergerac



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Blood, I Tried, Multiple Orgasms, NSFW, PWP, idk what this is tbh, it's mostly dumb poetic description but also smut i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 06:48:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16383347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serranodebergerac/pseuds/serranodebergerac
Summary: His love is harsh and pagan.  Irresistible.You pour wine into each others’ mouths like a pair of rapturous Bacchantes.  Fabric cascades from both your bodies with the mayhem of autumn leaves making way for the howling brutality of winter.





	Only Skin

**Author's Note:**

> Story is written for an entirely gender-neutral reader.

He has never kissed you on the mouth before.

In his chambers he is a wicked, wild animal, but he abhors human touch outside sex. He abhors anything that could be construed as intimacy.

His tastes revel in the profane, the taboo; and he adores your delight in dreaming up new, shared pleasures. Some days this, some days that. Some days, he is the one dealing it out -- when your flesh craves morbid absolution, he knows how to wield the bloody kiss of the lash in just the right way to leave you breathless, weeping with release. Some days, he relishes his own powerlessness at your hand: yielding with a delicious shiver as you ride him to violent oblivion, his own blood across your lips. It is only skin, he says. Skin so easily comes undone.

His love is harsh and pagan. Irresistible.

You pour wine into each others’ mouths like a pair of rapturous Bacchantes. Fabric cascades from your bodies with the mayhem of autumn leaves making way for the howling brutality of winter.

He likes to look at you. He traces a finger, the one of human skin, along the lip of a golden cup, his eyes are ravenous as a leopard’s. Then the converse: the finger is made of gold, the lip he touches is warm and flesh. Bloodless metal pulls down, across the bones beneath your throat; down, across the muscle stretched over ribs; down, to where his cool touch makes you quicken with heat.

He likes it when you are hungry. When, like now, you flush and whimper in your haste to get to him.

You ask him what he yearns for. You never use his name.

The corner of his mouth lifts. His gaze has a slow, steady intensity. Perhaps even a curiosity. His metal fingers tease you suddenly, roughly, and you gasp. He leans in, his voice low against your ear.

“Today I’m going to watch you come undone.”

He knows you like the touch of his mechanical hand; your sick delight in the non-human parts of him bring that wicked curl to his lips and a deep chuckle to his throat. He throws the wine cup with a metallic clang and pushes you onto the satin bedsheets. You shudder at the _clack_ of his high-heeled leather boots against the floor.

You are used to playing every game with him. You luxuriate in every new torment of sensation, the unbridled lusts you share, yowling and clawing like starving jungle cats. But this time is different. Deliberate. He does not touch himself, but brings you to a slow, maddening climax with his golden fingers. His eyes never wander from yours; watching, lambent, feral. When you crest over the first wave of ecstasy, dark pleasure unfurls on his face like a night-blooming flower. He does not release you, but drags you and drowns you, over and over and over, until you shiver and weep and beg from the depths of a roiling, shadowy sea.

His body has grown closer, his pleasure rooted to yours. His cat’s smile hangs over your head as he kneels over you. You reach out, grab his metal shoulder. You can see his arousal is keen; denying himself touch has made him fierce with lust. You beg him to fuck you, beg to feel him inside of you. He laughs at your need and pushes your thighs apart, his golden hand bringing another tidal wave. Your body is breaking, screaming like the splitting beams of a sunken ship.

In breathless desperation, you seize his shoulder made of skin, pull his mouth down to meet yours. The breath you steal from his throat inflames you, and you flip his body with reckless force and straddle his lap, taking him inside you with the voracity of a wild beast. The persistent, pounding surf of pleasure he gave you has left you taut with desire; the pace you set is merciless, and the sound from his throat is bass and infernal. The torn skin of his bottom lip is between your teeth, metallic blood already staining both your mouths.

It is only skin, he said --

Your lips press more gently; your tongues lap like tides.  Your voices bind together, barbed and aching.

Against his lips, you breathe his name into life.

His eyes whip open in shock.

His voice changes, from a throb to a runaway wail. You feel his bare chest against yours, skin against skin. The pulse of his blood drums from inside of you.  His teeth are at your throat, devouring, and you twist fingers into his hair, pull him back to face you, eyes set like warriors’. Gold, gold, gold; you are swallowed by the gold of him. His metal hand clutches around your back, an anchor as the waves break him apart. His skin smolders like ripe fire, his eyes burn into yours like scarlet suns. Your final climax twines tightly around his, your breaths ripping at the edges into cries, fifteen fingernails and five metal tips raking skin and skin and skin.

You both fall, torrential and tangled, your faces a whisper apart.

He does not look at you. His eyes are blown wide and averted. He does not move, does not speak. Silence stands like a conqueror over a battlefield of slain sensation. You both lie, wrapped in limbs and satin sheets, transfixed.

He lifts his hand of human skin with the gentleness of summer grass. He brushes you with his knuckles, as light as breeze. His cheeks redden, and his lips press together in a look akin to shame. His eyes still will not meet you. His hand against yours, warm and beating and fragile as a bird, bewilders you. Warm, pliant fingers weave between yours. His gaze meets you like a tamed animal. The look in them is sick with helplessness.

It is only skin, you think. Only skin that makes him come undone.

**Author's Note:**

> IDK what this is; I had that last image in my mind and it turned into smut I'm sorry.


End file.
